Gray and Gold
by Violet Fier
Summary: Live. Fight. Love. Protect this world. Stand up for what you believe in. Honor and pride. Nevertheless, words are just words. How can all that possibly mean anything, how can your world mean anything, without her in it? Cloud and sun. Storm and drought. Gray and gold. She takes your world away in a blink of an eye, without even knowing it. And there's no way you can have it back.
1. Jason

**Hi there!**

**I've read One-sided by Chocolateismydoom for a while, and it's amazing. So many people insisted her to write a guys version on Annabeth, and since in her profile that story can no way to be found, please allow me to have a version of my own. I do have some idea. And here it is, may I introduce you: JASON.**

**P/S: I'm Vietnamese, English isn't my first language, so there're probably some mistakes in grammar and stuff. Please review and tell me, I'll get better in the following chapters.**

**Enjoy!**

You should have freaked out.

You were on a schoolbus, had absolutely no idea what's going on, or who you are, held hands with a strange girl, and that scary goat-man was yelling at your face.

And then, a bunch of storm spirits attacked you, your coin turnt into a sword, you fought, you flew, rescued the girl, saved the day, the satyr disappeared, and you lost your shoe. Oh, and by the way, you're a demigod.

Awesome. AWESOME.

You should have stood there, frozen there, dumbfounded, with eyes glazed over.

Actually, you have, when you laid your eyes on her.

She's beautiful, that's much to say. Her hair is blonde (ok, that's cool, your hair is blond, too), but it's not. It's golden. It shines under the light, and despite being tied into a ponytail, those perfect princess curls still find the way to cascade down her mid-back like an enchanted fountain, some short locks tug out of the band to touch her smooth, tan skin. And her eyes, oh, those big stormy gray eyes, they're like seeing through you. You find it's hard to believe, since _no way_ that human's eyes could be _that_ bright. You think you could see lightning sparkling in her eyes. But something seems wrong. Shadows have covered that beautiful shade.

Some guy named Percy Jackson, who is blondie's boyfriend, has been missing. And that's driving her insane.

Her eyes spear you and Leo, the funny dude, and you shiver. In a moment, there was some hope twinkling in her eyes, until it's dark again, as she finds out you're not the one she's looking for.

The rainbow guy, Butch, askes you, Piper and Leo, to go to some place called CampHalf-Blood. You protest, say that you don't want to go anywhere, because that blondie looks like she wants to kill you. What you don't want to admit is you're shy. Just thinking about sitting next to her makes you blush, but fortunately, you don't think anyone notice.

Riding a chariot in the air makes you feel…comfortable. You don't feel like it when your feet touch the ground, and you think in your foggy past, you must have been a terrible swimmer. The wind blows Annabeth's (blondie's name) hair back and forth, and bring her scent to you. Lemon soap, mixing with olive, with a flash of sunlight . But there's something else, too. A scent you haven't even known before, let alone described it. It's strange, soft, warm, perfuming, and addicting. It's simply just plain _her_.

It's crazy you know, that people' scent can be different. Forget about those dogs, you're talking 'bout your impression with one's scent. Some's normal, some's horrible, and some's wonderful, even when they sweat. Especially when they sweat.

Piper, the girl sitting next to you, is the one with normal scent.

You arrive at Camp. Red alert. Red alert. What is that all about? Those orange shirts and bead necklaces have things to do with neither your purple shirt nor your strange tattoo. This is not your territory, You don't belong here. Dangerous. Foes.

Except for her.

You're going on a quest with Piper and Leo. Before you leave, she comes to you. You thought that she changed her mind, and decided to join you. That would give you the opportunity to get to know her, and, to be close to her. Too bad, she just came to wish you good luck. She plans to leave, too, but to search for her boyfriend. You suddenly feel envy.

During the quest, you and Piper are getting closer and closer. She likes you, obviously, and maybe your care and kindness got her misunderstanding. And you like the girl too, you do, she's nice, but whenever she sits next to you, or whenever you hold her in your arms, you picture Annabeth. Yes, Annabeth. You imagine yourself holding her, laughing with her, kissing those full, inviting lips of hers. You imgine yourself light up the lightning in her eyes, as she sits in your lap, and you hide your face in her soft golden hair, take in your lungs that angelic scent. And it feels… the perfection, as your skin touch hers.

It doesn't make any sense, but those thoughts help you through the quest.

An owl is a bird, a bird belongs to the sky, stormy clouds also belong to the sky, and you're the son of Jupipter, the lord of the sky, so she is meant to be with you, right? Right? Sure, she's now Jackson's but…that can change? You can make it up to her. You can help her.

You come back, have almost of your memories back, discover the epic plan of Juno the Annoying Queen, the threat of Gaea the Dirt Face, and be a hero. You can't wait to see her, to tell her how you feel. But no, she has to be distant to you. Your eyes long for her, stare at her figure but whenever she looks back at you, there're just anger, doubt, hate and sadness filled in those beautiful gray eyes.

You're angry. What have you done wrong, except for just be? It's Juno's plan, not yours. It's not your fault that Jackson gone missing. It's not your fault when you're here, instead of him. Does she really think that you enjoy it more than she does? Stupid girl. So as to revenge, and to make her jealous, you start dating with Piper. Big mistake. She doesn't even care. Not at all. And you're there, useless, like a spider trapped in its own web.

The great ship, Argo II, is ready to bring you home. Your home is where she is. So you're glad when she agrees to come along. Percy Jackson is in Romans' Camp, also lost his memories. Maybe he doesn't remember her yet. Maybe you still have a chance, to change her way, to make her yours. And so does Leo, despite his machine-aholic attitude, feels the same way that you do. You can tell. His expressions and yours somehow are the same.

She continues to keep her distant. Her eyes long for a faraway figure, as if she never see you. A you you: A guy who desprately wants to give his love, his trust, his own self, to her. She never notice that.

And you're still dating with Piper.

An owl flies in the sky, its eyes reflect the waves of the water.

A peaceful night on the Argo II, the girls passed out early, Leo is busy in the engine room, and Coach Hedge is humming something on the quarterdeck. You were wandering around, not knowing what to do, when you sudden feel the urge to visit her cabin. "That's not wrong," you tell yourself. "She must be asleep by now. I just want to have a glance at her, to make sure she's ok, that doesn't make me a stalker." You think, so that you do. You sneak into her cabin. And 'just a glance at her'? Don't be ridiculous.

Her golden hair spread all over the pillow, around her face, like a halo. Her skin seems to glow under the dim light of the bronze lantern. Her eyelids are closed, let those long, delicate eyelashes shadow her beautiful cheeks. Her soft lips slightly part, make them look more irresistable.

Gods, Sleeping Beauty can just be _this_ gorgeus.

You watch her sleep, counting every single breath of her. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. And slowly, you lean down, and brush your lips on hers.

She seems surprised, but then soon enough, she kisses you back, her fingers tangle in your hair. You smile, yes, it supposed to be this way. She's in your arms, kissing you, yourself kissing her, feeling her softness against you, taking in her incredible scent. It's wonderful. She's like a drug to you. You feel your soul fly up to the galaxy, be at one with the stars.

You pull away, look happily at her closed eyelids, at her dreamy smile. And that's when you fall to the Earth, so fast, so painful, but not so shocked, as she whispers, "Percy."

Your expression turns dark, and you surge out of her cabin, blinking those stupid tears out of your eyes. You won't cry, you hate crying, you hate water, especially salt water.

You don't break up with Piper. She's so nice, and the other girl doesn't love you. Not at all. And even though how painful it is, you keep rewinding the moment you steal a kiss from Annabeth in the back your mind, whenever you kiss Piper.

The day you reunite with your camp has arrived. The four of you walk through the forum of New Rome. Then two praetors walk to you. Reyna, and a guy with jet-black hair and sea green eyes. You recognize him from the photos back at CampHalf Blood.

Percy Jackson.

Oh, he's praetor now? Great.

"Please don't remember her, please don't remember her…" you pray, as you're watching the two of them looking at eachother. And of course, the god who answerd your pray is a huge jerk of disappointment.

They rush to eachother like two winds, their bodies entwine with eachother, as they pull eachother into a passionate kiss.

You're there, dazed, as something inside you crumbs into bits.

And it dawned to you, when you see the lightning, that you wanted so much to light up, glitter in her silvery eyes, as they lock with his sea green orbs.

An owl is a bird, a bird flies the sky, stormy clouds also fly in the sky. That's true.

But stormy clouds are rain, and rain is water. No matter what, rain will come back to the ocean, because that is where water belongs to. Stormy clouds never stay with the sky.

And the owl, it doesn't fly much. It only flies at night, and when the dawn about to come, it will return to its home. A nest. On a tree. By the lake.

Always.


	2. Frank

**Hey hey hey! It's me back again. **

**This is my best work so far. I love Frank! He's such an inspiration. And I don't know if you notice or not, but I' ve bursted into tears at the end of this chapter. Besides, I were listening to "A little fall of rain" when I were writing. Oh my gods, Les Mis is the best. Ever. Although I'm not interested at all in Eponine's character built of the musical, she's much, much more interesting and real in the book, but I can't deny the fact that her songs ( "A little fall of rain" and "On my own") are really important material when they comes down to this fic.**

**P/s: About Coach Hedge, I know what you think so please don't freak out. Sick, right? I don't know, I just think that add him to this would be…nice, though I don't come up with any idea about that, yet. I hope I will. Anyway,**

**Enjoy! **

You scare of danger. Of course, everyone does. Especially when their lives depend on a stick of wood, that no bigger than a toothpick.

You trust Percy. He's your best buddy. You trust him much enough to tell him about your secret fear, and not afraid that he would tell anyone about it, or use it against you. He won't let you down. Not ever. That's a guarantee.

You trust Hazel. As a matter of fact, you _adore_ the girl. Enough for you to give her your life, and insist her to keep it.

Your life now is in Hazel's hand, and so be it. You don't care what others say about her, nor if she is a child of death. If you notice or not, but that sounds as cheesy as a proposal could be. Whatever. You don't care. You feel safe with her, and that's it. To be honest, why risking? Isn't your life in danger enough? Isn't that danger had stolen your mom away? You need someone to take care of you, same as you to take care of her. Hazel is the one.

And you believed it is destined. It would be forever Hazel and Frank. No Sammy. Sammy's gone. It's Frank's turn.

The night before you meet the Greeks and Jason Grace, Venus paid you a visit. She'd appeared in your dream, looked at you with a strange smile. You don't know what that smile means, and you're not so sure if you wanted to know or not. Then she turnt away, and you saw two flames: One's red and hot, the other was smoking with a shade of golden. You, of course, frightened, and woke up.

Percy, Hazel and you rushed out of the Senate House to catch a glimpse at the huge flying ship. Well you don't have to wait so long. Four passengers, one by one, climb down a rope that hanging from the deck to the ground. A blond guy, rugged and handsome, apparently Jason, followed by a pretty girl with dark skin and braided brown hair After them, the brat that appeared in the video shows up with a huge grin. You sudden feel your skin tinged, and you wonder if your piece of wood that stays in Hazel's pocket has been burnt yet. Not just because you recognized him as Sammy, but the hard-to-explain instinct. This scrawny guy has something that you should be afraid of.

The last guest climbed down and you frozed.

Wind blows her shiny hair to directions, makes it look like a wildfire, which sure is something you should've scare of. Her eyes are smoky gray, which is also something you should've scare of. Her face is delicate and phenomenal, her figure is stunning, tall and proud and intelligent and graceful, but still very strong.

Annabeth.

Percy has described her as the most beautiful girl in the whole planet, you thought it was just a way a boyfriend would look at his girl, but now you don't see those compliments were wasted. Not anymore.

That's what you don't realize. That danger may be painful, may be sorrowful, but there's still a hidden side of it that holds the key of satisfication. It has an exotic power, similar to gravity, that like to invite you, to embroil you, to suck you into it without reasons. You know it would bring you no good, but you still give in. It's like an impression of a kid to a deep, deep pit, or of a desprate man to a knife.

The moment you see her, you know your life will be miserable if you fall in love with her. But you, hopelessly, fell, anyway. Hard.

You want to stretch your hand out to shake hers, but something hold you back. It's a another hand. Hazel's hand, entwine with yours. You hold your head down, ashamed, like a someone who has been caught stealing.

You watch the two of them doing stuff-which-Percy-and Annabeth-usually-do. Fighting side by side, kissing, huging, laughing, cuddling, calling eachother idiots, etc… Oh, and falling asleep in eachother's arms in the stable, too. It's heart-breaking, and how ridiculous it is that you can't even imagine yourself in his place. They are so perfect for eachother, so right, that the 'what if' phrase seems impossible to think about. You keep remiding yourself, "Stop dreaming about her. You have Hazel. It's a sin to think about your best friend's girlfriend that way. Not cool, Frank Zhang. Not cool."

But you only make it worse.

Visiting Annabeth every night soon become a hobby of yours. You don't plan anything, you just want to see her a little. Even though thinking so, you still choose the times when Percy isn't there, when he passed out, or when he leaves for a quest. It's like cheating, you know, but you're not sure why. You love her. You love the way she often gets too much on details, you love the way her hair flows down her back. You love the way her fingers float on her laptop's keyboard, so gracefully, like a musician, and you love the way everything reflects on her gray eyes. You love her smirk. You thought to yourself, "It's for the best. I cannot be with her, but I can be her teddy bear. That's sure something I'm good at." And just like that, slowly, the more you stay close to Annabeth, the more you drift away from Hazel. Until one day, you suddenly realize: you don't care about her like you used feelings now for her are nothing different from the protectiveness of a big brother to his little sister. And Hazel has changed, too.

One night, Annabeth comes to see you. She asks, "Hazel is in her cabin, crying her eyes out and refused to talk to anyone, not even Piper. Do you know what happened to her?"

"Yes", you answer.

"Then what is it?"

"We broke up."

How strange it is when that sentence comes out of your mouth. You feel, relieved, as if an itchy mask you've carried all the time has been pulled out of your face. A little empty, of course, since you got used to it, but mostly relieved. And you know Hazel does feel the same way, though as a sensitive girl, she finds it harder to accept than you do. And when you asked her to have your stick of wood back, she thought you don't trust her anymore.

"She will be alright," you thought to yourself. That thought was cut off by Annabeth's voice.

"How?"

"Hazel's in love with Leo." That's the truth, but not entirely. You can't tell anyone that you also fell for another girl, especially when that girl is standing in front of you, asking you _this_.

Annabeth stares at you, raises an eyebrow, but does not say anything, and she then leaves. She knows you're hiding something, you can tell, but she's just not sure what.

Percy and Annabeth fell into Tartarus. That must be the hardest time you've ever experienced. The idea of losing her, it's killing you. You find your own feelings match the other guys', from Jason, to Leo, even the weird kid Nico, and Coach Hedge? Soon enough, they return, not perfectly safe and sound, but can be healed. You're like want to scream out loud with joy. But then Annabeth gone missing again. Gaea wants to pledge her revenge. And all of you go crazy in finding Annabeth.

You found her first, by turning into a dog and using that special-sniff-ability. She's there, in a cold chamber, being chained with iced handcuffs like Thanatos used to be. You remember that experience. There's only a way to save her.

So what will you decide? Saving yourself, or the girl you love? You take a look around the chamber, and at her, laying limp against the wall, so pale, so fragile, her hair's messy and dirty, her beautiful eyes are half closed, half opened. You can feel your lifeline inside of your pocket, warming up, and you take it out.

You should've know this day will come.

The wood's stick, which is now just about the size of your tip-finger, burning as you think about a wildfire. The tiny blaze touches the iced chain, break it up, when she's slowly awake and realizes what you're doing. She screams, "No, Frank. Stop it! What do you think you're doing?" but don't listen. Your vision is blur now, and what's in your ears is buzz. You collapsed to the floor, since nothig's between your fingers now, inspite of ash. You feel your heart beating faster to the dead end, your blood rushes through your veins, your body, and comes out of your throat. In front of your eyes, everything is on fire, the floor, the stone wall, the ceiling. And you laugh a very strange laughter, a laughter of a boy who just successfully rescued the girl he loves, mixing with a laughter of a person who's now stepping one feet to the ground of the Underworld.

Annabeth rus to you, tears in her eyes. She demands, "Frank, stay. You can't leave us now. The others will come here immediately. You have to hang on. You'll be saved. It's going to be alright!"

Firelight is covering your eyes, but in a way your vision is clearer than ever. You chuckle, "Silly Frank." You worried that since there's too many flames, so Annabeth's image would be blend in that illusion. Her hair is blonde, her skin is tan, and she's wearing an orange t-shirt. But instead, you do see her. You see her perfectly. She's glorious.

You manage a weak smile, blood sticks on your teeth. "No, it's not. I'm not going to make it. P…please tell them I…I'm so sorry. A…and…I wish them all the best. I wish _you…_all the best."

With a little last effort, you manage to raise, and rest your head in her lap.

"Are you hurt?" she asks.

Still smiling, you answer. "Hurt? Nonsense. I don't feel any pain. This is, gods, relaxing, instead."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"No, I'm serious. I'm glad I saved you. And… Annabeth?"

"Yes?"

"To pay me up for rescueing you, can you do me a favor?"

"Aything."

You're so exhausted, to push words out seems harder and harder. "C…c…call me…a…an idiot."

"What?"

"C…c…call me…" you repeat, "a…an idiot. A big…idiot. L…l…l…like you call…P…Percy."

Tears still fill her eyes, as she opens them wide. She looks at you, and you can learn from that look: _she knows_.

"OK," she speaks, her voice sounds like a melody comes from the lyr of the one and only Orpheus, "You big idiot. Go to sleep."

"T…thank you." You rest your head in her lap, still smiling, close your eyes, and exhale your final breath.

You feel your body getting lighter and lighter, like a feather, till your eyes fly open again.

Thanatos is flying above you, his black wings spread wide, his beautiful face is emotionless, his eyes are cold.

"It's about time. Any last wish?"

You turn back, take a look at yourself sleeping peacefully in the lap of your fire, and you memorize every detail of her: grey eyes, golden hair, delicate fingers. The others rush in as you're watching. They kneel down next to you.

You turn back to Thanatos and smile, "No. I just got mine."


	3. Author's note

**Author's note:**

**What's up, guys?**

**Listen, I sincerely need you to help me. Right now, my head is in a war. At one side, those ideas about Leo Valdawesome and Nico di Badass are attacking me like crazy. At the other side, Tyson's and Luke's barricade are starting to form, still ****_desprately hungry_**** for a lot of fixings, since I want to assure them to be cute in a saddest way. In a small, yet important corner, Coach Hedge's and Grover's are itching like hell, still no promising, but have a lot of potential. And sometimes, a faraway voice askes me to come up with something for Michael Yew and Ethan Nakamura. So my point here is: I need you to tell me all of your opinions, like how you want it to happen, which character you want me to write about, the background, and so on. Go a head! Be my guide. All comments are welcomed.**

** **Violet Fier****


	4. Nico

**Okay, it's me again. **

**Sorry for absent for a while guys, but I really have a logical excuse. My laptop was crashed down, all of my files disappeared, so I have to reproduce them all over again. Besides, I did have trouble in writing Nico, since there's so much information, begins with the dance in Westover Hall, ends with the heart-wrenching fall into Tartarus (sob) . I needed to reread all those details again, gather them around, collect what's needed and what's not, shorten, lengthen, and come up with a story of mine. Walla! Here comes the Nico you've been all waiting for.**

**Warning: This is going to be looonnngggg…**

**P/S: Congratulations! An applause to the amazing KaraokeLeo. You know what I mean. Ethan Nakamura would definitely be up next.**

**And to my dear lovelies, I'm looking forward to 30 reviews for chapter IV, so please don't let me down. Your all comments are so precious to me, and so they are to every author. Please R&R. And for question of the week:**

**Who will fall after Ethan to the pit of desprate love for Miss Chase? The answer is up to you!**

It's bad enough being a demigod.

It's even worse being a child of Death.

But nothing, nothing's more sorrowful than being a loner.

All your miserable life, people seem like they always push you away. When you were five, your mom died. Then the oh-so-powerful father of yours abandoned you and your sister stucking in a place for a time of who-knows, all because of a stupid family's issue that happened between him and your oh-even-more-powerful uncle.

Oh, don't be sad, Nico, he rescued you after all. Yes, he did. He rescued the two of you out of there, only to trashed you again in a military school. With a Manticore. But seriously, you don't even care. Because what could you expect? An honest apology? A father-and-son hug? A heart-warming reunion? No, thanks. You've got Bianca. She's your only family. Besides, what could actually bother you, a boy with pure spirit and careless heart, whose hobby is digging his head in a bunch of cards and tiny statues?

Those are two main reasons why you didn't feel like shit for the first twelve years.

But honestly, there _is_ something you should be thankful, neither blame that horrible, cold-blooded parent. Because if it wasn't what he had done, you didn't get the opportunity to meet her.

Her, the girl who's like you, has a tough past.

Her, the girl who teaches you how to fall for somebody.

And her, the girl who (you hve to deal with the fact so achingly), never be yours.

The first time you met her is in Westover Hall. She and her friends rescued Bianca and you from the Manticore. You didn't pay much attention to her at first, just noticed a minor detail that she's very pretty, 'cause you were too busy enjoyig the magical new world that just had welcomed you in. it's not love at first sight, jeez, please. Like what have metioned above, you were still a boy, youthful, pure and careless.

You are left behind again with a huge 'Why?' Because that's Bianca. Why does your own sister want to leave you? Why not just once, but twice? That's when it came. The Dark Nico. It makes you penetrate that you are all, completely, definitely, a perfect loner. It digs a black pit in your heart, forces you to grow up, so fast, so instantly, by the pain. Despite the ache and the annoying feelings, it does help you a little bit. You start to notice things, like real things, rather than those stupid cards which you used to love so much. And that's when you really think of _her_.

At first, those thoughts come to you with a rush of anger. You curse that blonde hair, those gray eyes, 'cause he had prefered saving her to saving your sister. But after some occasionally 'accidents', you are enlightened, and so you find there's no one to blame. Naturally, the older girl in front of you, walks in a different light.

You still remember the day, in every detail of it.

It supposed to be a warm summer day, with sun shining and nymphs laughing, but instead, deadly silence filled the air of Camp Half-Blood. Percy Jackson was missing.

You were sitting by the lake, torturing yourself with the boredom as she appeared, and took a seat next to you.

"May I…?", she asked, her voice was no louder than an exhale.

"Sure.", said you, and everything went back to silence.

You two just sat there, eyes glazing at the lake in front of you. There're sometimes, her hand found your hand, and quietly squeezed it. The simple gesture stirred something inside you. Yes, of course you know she didn't mean anything, she was just sad and lonely and needed a company. But why couldn't you stop the chill behind your back when your skin touch hers? Why couldn't you stop the beads of sweat that were flowing across your neck? Why couldn't you stop the strange heat that suddenly makes your heart runs for a thousand miles?

It was the first time ever, you paid a closer look at her. Her hair was like be abandoned for days, red and purple rings gather around her big grey eyes. She looked a lot skinnier and paler, but strangely, you still found her beautiful. You like the way she flips her hair to one side, accidentally reveals her long slender neck. You like the way she looks down, to read books or to do anything, so you can take an adventage of that to count her golden eyelashes. And when you look into her eyes, you surprise by how they reflect your own feelings: sadness, hurt, betrayal, lonesome. And loss. She's just like you.

The boyish innocence that still lingers in your soul is nothing but a blind-fold. It covers your eyes, fills your path with darkness. It doesn't tell you, that as you walk further step, as you fall deeper in the love to her, till there's no way out. And doom. You're finished. For the rest of your life, you'll be trapped in a prison named Annabeth Chase.

Leading him to the River Styx is… confusing, you guess. You do know about the prophecy, you do know that he might be that hero, but still, you feel the bitter on the toungue, so as the urge to punch someone. Dark Nico, the nasty version within you, rises again, and it keeps murmuring in your head, toxics your mind with those horribles hopes and wishes:

- Somehow, you wish he could pay for the times he made her worried, all the times he freaked her out, all the times he made her cries, all the times, he hurted her.

- Somehow, you wish he could just disappear.

- Somehow, you wish yourself could stand in his place, because you would never, ever do such things as he di to her. You can comfort her, cheer her up, erase from her mind the memories of him, free her from the posession of her Seaweed Brain.

- Somehow, you wish he could be destroyed in the River, that Styx could burn him into dust.

You wish, you wish, you wish, and you wish…

But obviously, despite those skeletons, your wish isn't anyone's command.

He's alive. She saves him.

You watch in silence as the lovebirds get together, as natural as it should be. Percy belongs with Annabeth. Annabeth belongs with Percy. What could possibly be more perfect? Who could ever complain about it?

'Me,' the you inside screaming. 'I am complaining. He has hurted her so bad! How can he still have the right to be with her?'

What a shame, those words can't find the way to get out of your mouth. They're just stucking there, in your eyes, burning bright, but nobody see them. They are too busy throwing the brand new couple to the canoe lake, with hands entertwine, happy laughters, loving and endearing looks. The sight's killing you, but you can't even move, not talking about run away. Your legs feel like stone now.

You don't need pity. Being ignored is some thing you 've known all too well.

You're on your own.

The night hovers above your head, as it swallows you into the black of darkness.

'Nico, have you heard anything from Percy?' she askes you, her eyes plead you, the sound of her voice begs you. Her boyfriend, yet, missing again.

You swallows a hot-white lump. 'Sorry Annabeth. I don't know anything.

Or your lieing skill is well improved, or her sharp suspicion is well damaged. Desperation can do stuff to people. Because after that, she simply just turn away from you.

You frown, 'Coward…' as you remember that harsh, cold voice of your father. 'Do not tell anyone about either camps, or you will cause trouble. And believe me, child, that trouble is not some price that you want to pay.'

'Why did you tell me this, Father?' asked you, confusing.

'Because my children will play an important role on this quest, and believe me, child, there's no one that is more apropriate in keeping this secret more than you. People don't notice you. They ignore you. That's an adventage.'

How honor. Being recognized as a loner by your own father, carrying a great and dangerous top secret to one's self? No sharing?

What's to be mad about? That's exactly what you do best. And it's not like for ever. They'll figure it out soon enough.

Still, you feel lieing to her is absolutely one of the worst things you've ever done. As if you can hear Dark Nico whispering to you, its voice mocking you, 'Smooth, Nico. And you were sure you wouldn't hurt her. Now look what you've done?!'. 'Shut up,' says you, yeah, like shut it down was something possible.

If someone ever askes you what you miss the most when all of these, quests, battles, giants, Gaea, are over, you'll answer: the reunion of you with Percy and Annabeth in Tartarus.

You don't remember how you got there, you don't want to. Everything has work to do with the battle, is sure something you'd want to forget. All of you would.

But you can't take off your mind that little conversation with Percy, as you were sitting by the little fire, taking charge for the night, and was lying on the other side, his arms encircled around the sleeping Annabeth.

At first, you only stared at her, admired her beauty. Falls of golden hair, flushing cheeks, slender arms and legs, the peaceful music of heart and breath, which is only found while people are asleep, as her soft chest rose and fell.

Your eyes raised higher and found Percy, was looking at her too, his sea green eyes were dreamy, and his finger was twirling a blond strand, delicately toying with it.

You sudden memorized a couple of days ago, about an offer of your father. That made you think, maybe, maybe you still have a chance with her.

So you suggested Percy, tried to make it sound half-joking half-serious,

'Uh, Percy? Can I ask you a question?'

'What?', he said, eyes didn't look up on you.

'If Annabeth dies, I mean, after years from now, not right now, so please don't panic. And there's someone, who wants to…take care of her, like, Luke, for an example, then…Is there any chance that you'd give her up?'

'No.'

'Why? She's dead. There should be someone who can take care of her in the Underworld. So she won't be lonely? Anymore?'

'No. She won't die before me. If she does, I will follow her, though I want it or not.'

'How can you be so sure? You _know_ I'm a child of death, right?'

'Believe me, Nico, I know. And also I know that _I_ will die before her, or die _with_ her. I sincerely need her in my life. She's like…she's like my breath now. And how can a person's alive without breathing? How can I'm alive without her presence?'

_She's like my breath now, How can I'm alive without her presence_. How cheesy it seems, but when those lines be spoken by him, they didn't sound cheesy at all. You just saw honest, respecting, and loving for her in every word he had said.

A bitter grin crooked on your mouth as the both of them drifted to sleep, holding on to one another like a lifeline. In spite of the dark, no one could have seen your expression.

'Pathetic.', you thought to yourself.

After all, everyone gets what they deserve. The wheel of Fates continue to spin normally again.

About your father's offer, he still leaves it open. For turning you to immortal, he wants you to stay by his side, being his left-arm, second in command. And the funniest part of all, he askes you to join his _family_.

Is he a fool or something, for not seeing how much his wife hates you?

But you still accept, anyway. It's not like you have a choice. You're not Percy Jackson. Everything isn't different for you. Your life will always be a lonesome life, this way or that way. Lenghthen it? Not a big deal.

Which is why now you are sitting on the edge of a mountain in the Underworld, eyes glazing to the Golden Gates of Elysium. In front of them, an old man, with gray hair and sea green eyes, is waiting for someone.

An old lady walks to him, smile on her. Her hair is snow white, and wise gray color sparkling in her eyes.

The closer they get together, the younger they are. His hair darkens as her hair's thicker, softer and blonder. Their wrinkles magically disappear. Their steps become stronger, lighter, and faster. And as their hands entertwine, it turns out to be Percy and the girl who has stolen your heart, Annabeth.

The process doesn't stop there. Their appearance continue to change, from the day of their first time together, to the day when they are thrown to the canoe lake, to the day of their wedding, to the day they fall into Tartarus, to the day he propose to her, to the day their first child is given birth. That's what wonderful about the deaths. Their ages are made by memories.

You're there, as silent as you were years ago, watching two teenagers race to the Golden Gates of Elysium, happy laughters fill the air.

The night hovers above your head, as it swallows you into the black of darkness, as silent as you are. Two lonely passengers, walking side by side, journeying together, doing everything together, but they're still on their own ways.

Lonely.


	5. Ethan

**Hello, this is me, again. Long time, huh? So, there you go, Ethan Nakamura.**

**P/s: I have nothing much to say except for this: Jacob Artist and Melissa Benoist = Charles Beckendorf and Silena Beauregard. Who's with me? **

They say children are woderful creatures, because they were created by the combination of two parents' love.

If that was true, you're definitely not a child.

There was a Japanese man, full of bitterness and enmity. He was always drunk. A woman has betrayed him, after he left everything behind to follow her to a completely unfamiliar country.

There was a godess, envy and cruel. She happened to have the same face with _that _woman.

The two met, and they had an one-night stand.

You are the product of that night. You are the product of the man's selfish pleasure as he finally felt the satisfication of pouring every anger, every hatred, every revenge on to the woman that he has been vindictive for so long. Blending with the simple happiness of the goddess, because that was one chance of her to throw something hideous into this crazy world.

You were born that way. What made of your existence is anything but love.

Though, you do hold love within your heart.

They say children are the happiest creatures in the world, because they can sleep in peace, with no worries, with no reasonable fear.

If that was true, you're definitely not a child.

Nightmares surround you from the very first minute of your life. Staying awake bring you more relief. There's some nights, you lay still against your cradle, eyes stare at the ceiling, ears listen to the murmur of the night, to the steps of coakcroches on the kitchen's dirty floor, to the heavy snore of your dad on that dirty couch in that chaotic living room, of that horrible apartment.

They say there are moments, that just happen once in a lifetime, can change your life.

If that was true, well, you believe it. It happens to you.

There's a playground near your apartmet. Nothing much, just some old-fashioned swings, a climber, and a small pool of beach sand. But to you, a five-year-old boy, it's a world of joy. Your dad doesn't allow you to go there and play, but he doesn't forbid you either, since alcohol always makes him passed out. So you just need to have a little patient, until the right time to sneak out, then enjoy yourself in those precious hours.

One day, when you're climbing on the climber, your sight catch in a face of a little girl, about four years old, who's climbing, too—on the other side. And you're dazed, as her smile blows you away.

Golden locks curl around little shoulders, very long, thick eyelashes worship those sparkling stormy gray eyes. Her cheeks are as soft ad gorgeous warm as rose petal. Lovely lips are open in a bright smile, reveal two rows of white teeth. A plain white dress covers from her shouders to above her pink knees.

You've never seen anything as beautiful as she is. The thought makes you blush, and make the five-year-old chubby body of yours fall from the climber to the ground.

She laughs, climbs down, runs to you, and offers her hand out to help. You take those small fingers to stand up, embrassed. 'She must think I'm really stupid,' you thought to yourself.

But her curious look calm you, her friendly smile comfort you.

'Hello. Who are you?' she lisps, that chirrup sound of little kids which you find adorable.

'E…Ethan,' you answer, still blushing.

'I'm Anna…' her eyes shine even more.

With that talking of hers and that hearing plus memory of yours, what she said soon becomes comething ufinished, something like 'An an…"

Then you suddenly remember a picture that you used to see in a children's book.

An angel.

Your Angel.

For the next three days, you live in the dream. Sneaking out of the apartment, meeting Angel, and playing till sunset. There're plenty of things that you can do in that playground. Oh, kids. They ca come up with anything.

On the fourth day, you have a sandcastle. Angel built it, with your help. It's a very beautiful palace. It's very high with pointed rooftop, swan lakes, huge gardens, and bridges, and it has lots of windows.

You ask her. 'Which room is the biggest?'

'This one.' She points to the highest tower, at a room with a biggest window on it.

'The it will be your room.' you say.

'So where is yours?'

'Here.' You poit at the bottom of the same tower. 'I'll be here.'

'Why?'

'To guard, of course.' you shrug. 'I can't let those evil thieves sneak in, can I? They would kidnap you. And you're the princess of the palace. It will collapse if you're not there.'

Angel smiles a soft smile, like a blossom in spring. She leans in, and those beautiful, beautiful lips plant a blessing on your cheek.

'Thank you.' She says, and you melt.

Your father appear to cut off your daydream. 'Ethan, let's go. Why are you still here?'

He doesn't look normal today. He isn't drunk. His face is gaunt and pale, by the affect of alcohol, when his eyes are sharpened by anger, hatred, wicked, ice, and fear. A bloody trace is sticking to the right of his neck.

He repeats to you. 'Let's go.' and hurrily carry you away, in the mean time, he shoots at Angel a look of disgust. His boot crashes down a hugh side of your sandcastle.

Angel's stunning gray eyes open wide with anxiety, as her look turns from you, to the man who is now gripping you, and she calls your name, 'Ethan?'. You, not knowing to do anything, let yourself be take away.

You're not sure why you know that you won't be able to come back here again.

Your dad's car has left when the police arrive. The only thing they found was the dead body of a middle-age woman, with no evidence. But that's a different story.

Along the way, dad and you don't even exchange a word to one another.

He is a kind of man that lost the ability to love, long time ago. He doesn't love anyone, including his own son. If it was possible, he has thrown you into the orphanage without hesitate. Sadly, he couldn't. The goddess wants that. He has to deal with you, until the time you can run away by yourself. And she makes sure you will. Oh, you will.

But let's leave that to later. Right now, you are in the back seat, staring at the farer and farer apartment through the glass of the rear window. Your eyes are searching for the playground, where your Angel's waiting for you. Your expression turns thoughtful.

Touch your hand on the glass, you thought, with a determine and solemn look on your face, 'I'll find you, Angel. I swear.'

They say there's nothing to fear, but the fear itself.

If that was true, then why in the world could you not lay down in bed without worries, or why could you not wake up without screaming and shivering? Huh?

That's easy. Those nightmares refuse to tolerate you, they must rewind your memories, your promises, your sin, over and over again. They don't care if they drive you nuts. After all, it was you.

You think you can almost feel the salty and sticky taste on the tip of your tongue, as blood and tears tracing down your face, when your father smash his bottle against your head, or when your mother rip an eyeball out of her own son.

So freaking painful.

You think you can almost see the that living room, with bottles and cans litter everywhere, the smell of alcohol fills the atmosphere, and your father pass out on the couch, not knowing that fire is surrounding him, getting closer and closer, preparing to swallow him into its light and heat.

The fire, the fire that you started. On the exact purpose.

You can remember every word that your mother (a.k.a Nemesis, the goddess of revenge) has spoken to you. You can even remember the indifference in her voice, too. _Don't fail me, child. You asked me for a chance to make a difference, and you're willing to pay for it as well. Now, there's your chance. Use it wisely._

You can hear the mysterious and deadly chuckles of Master, his voice's like resounding from the grave, demands you to obey,_ Loyalty, Ethan Nakamura. Be loyal to me._

But the worst nightmare is yet to come.

You found her. You finally found her. After all these years. What could possibly be better than that? You feel yourself long for her touch, for her smile, for her look. All you want is to run to her, to hold her in your arms, to feel the warmth and the softness of her body, to sniff the amazing smell in her hair, to stare in her silvery eyes, to make sure she's real. You can imagine her run to you, her grin's wide, and…

She doesn't recognize you. Your angel doesn't recognize you.

The look on her face stabs you in the heart. How can it be so strange, so distant? Doesn't she remember the boy she used to play with when she was smaller?

A touch of nervous flash over her face, as if she is looking at a monster, and she run away, leaving you behind, stunned.

_Why doesn't she remember me?_

It dawns on you in a matter of second as you glance at the dagger in your hand, and suddenly, you toss it to the ground in disgust.

The bronze dagger glimmer faintly in the dark. On the glossy surface, a deformed image of a skinny and hairy creature appears, looking straight back at you. Nicks and scars cover its face, make it look as hideous as a beast. Its only eye, dark and bloody eye, is full of perfidiousness and enmity.

Your reflection.

_This…this is not me._ You murmur weakly to yourself, desperately try to deny the truth. The emptiness behind your eye-patch suddenly become more painful than ever.

The beast stare at you, terrified.

_Who turn me into this? _You scream in agony, but the only thing that reply to the question is the sound of your own voice, echoing over the dark of the Labrynth.

The war is a mess. You remember there's a very thick Mist, covering the battlefield. You remember the disgusting smell of all types of monsters. You remember blood, lots and lots of blood, pouring out within the screams, the yells, and the curses. You remember bodies laying limp everywhere, and you just stand, and coldly look at them, red liquid sticking on your sword.

But everything you've known, everything you've experienced, vanish when Angel comes.

She's there, fierce, proud and glorious, fighting side-by-side with the guy you attempt to kill. His head hold high, black hair's tangled in the wind, green eyes flicker like the sunlight on the distant waves. There seems to be a halo of power glowing in him.

He's beautiful. She's beautiful. They look perfect with eachother. And there's like no any place for you to stand between them.

_No_! You protest. Angel belongs to you. You've risked everything to find her. Whoever dare to replace you, is unacceptable.

Something urge you to surge to them, and point your dagger right to the small of his waist. And even though everything is blurring because of your lost eye, you manage to define the target correctly. His back is to you now, he won't see you coming. He won't. _Yes_. You thought. _Perfect. Keep on doing what you're doing, and I promise it'll be fast. Farewell, Percy Jackson! _And you stab him.

There's a second, before your dagger meet his skin, an angel wing spread out, cover him protectively. The sharp blade pierce through it, the alabaster shield, instead of its previous target.

She took the dagger for him.

You don't feel anything else after that, even when he hit your face (hard) by his sword's hilt, nor when he swing his sword over the army of foes, and yelling, 'Do not touch her!'

No. Because all of your senses were numb, as you stare at the goddess in his arm. She hardly stop the wound from bleeding.

You run, run the way you've run from every sin you've made, like a coward. You can't face her. You can't look at her. She's an angel who just saved one's life. And you're the beast who just hurt her.

That night, you didn't dream much, just a vision of Angel lying the ground, bloodcovers her stunning figure. That's it. But it scares you off more than any nightmare.

They say if yoy love someone, you'd fight to the death just to protect them.

If that was true, then what the Hades are you doing here?

She's there, injured and unconscious. A satyr kneel next to her, tears in his eyes. You see one of his arms is around her shoulders, clumsily protect her, while he's playing some weird flute. After every note he plays, grasses, roots and vines bloom out, cover the stained floor of the throne room, roll around the marble columns.

Percy is standing in front of her, fighting with Luke (or should you call Kronos now?). He looks exhausted, but his eyes are bright with determination, and he manges to stand strong.

I asked it once, and now I asked it again, _What the hell are you doing here?'_

He asked you something, and you answered, though what you've said, you're not sure you want to keep that in your mind. Not right now. It's hard to focus when music's filling the air. And besides, you've got your own questions.

Do you love her? _ Yes, absolutely.

Is she worthy? _ Of course.

Do you want to be with her? _ Yes… No.

No. Because you can't. You achingly need it, but you know you can't. You've sink too deep. The possibility of you two together is as distant and ghostly as the promise you've made to her years ago.

The promise. Yes. The promise.

You've promised to protect her. You've promised to guard out side her castle.

You broke it, but there's still a chance to make it up somehow, even if just a little bit, if you do something heroic immediately.

You swing your sword at the neck of Master Kronos.

Your sword's shattered. A piece of it go cross your armor and stab at your chest.

Kronos stands up unsteadily. He looks down at you and groans, 'Betrayer.'

The satyr's music is still being played, and you look at Percy Jackson.

She's the best thing that ever happens to you, but you're sure you're not the one who should be with her. She deserves better, so much better, which is exactly what you can't do.

But he can. You know it. You saw the way he look at her.

You look at the room. Between the mess, twelve thrones gather around the fireplace. Twelve. And you think, _What if the minor gods do have such things? What if Nemesis also has a throne? Will it change her bitter opinions? Will it change your fate? Will it ever give you the life you should've had? Can you ever restart everything with Angel?_

You lay your eyes on her one last time, with longing and adoring, and turn back to him.

'Deserve…better. If only they just need…thrones.'

You won't say you love her. It's enough to know that by yourself.

Kronos slammed his foot against the floor, make it cracked. The crack run to the position in which you're sitting and collapse around it. Grapevines wrap around your body, try to keep you stay, but that is impossible. _No problems_, you thought. _It would be a nice coffin._

You hear him call out her name as you're falling to the endless darkness with bricks and stones. _Annabeth. So that's her name. How beautiful it is. And all this time I thought it was Angel. _But you weren't wrong. She is, indeed, an angel.

Your angel.

A brick hit your forehead, and you black out.

There's a simple playground, with just some swings and climber. But behind it, there's a marvelous castle with golden gates and diamond towers.

A girl is sitting on one of the swings. Her feet are bare, she's wearing a pretty white summer dress. She's picturesque. Her blonde locks tumble down her waist. Her skin is smoother than rose's petals. The sun makes the complexion seems to glow.

A Japanese boy walks to her. He's tall, strong, and good-looking. His brown eyes are bright with pure delight. Should he need an eye-patch? No way. His eyes are OK, and he doesn't want to creep her out.

She grins widely at him, runs to him and takes his hand. He stares at her happily. Her gray eyes sparkle even more than the brightest stars.

For the first time of your existence, you know what a sweet dream is like.

You thought to yourself_. It's gonna be a very long fall, so don't wake up, _as you're holding Annabeth's soft hand, and the two of you walk through the shiny gates of your castle.


	6. Apollo

**I'm back!**

**Thank you all for your support. Without you, I'd definitely not go this far.**

**This chapter is new from...every side. My newest, my new style, new vision, new kind of character. I introduce to you The Sun God!**

**Writing about a connection between two characters that didn't actually meet sounds like a huge challenge. But after thinking about it, I realize it is actually a damn good idea, so I decided to give it a chance and stick with it until today.**

**Find out how and tell me what you feel.**

**Sincerely**

**Violet Fier**

_Once upon a time, there was a ray of sunshine, as same as every other ray of sunshine. It's delicate, bright, and beautiful. One day, accidentally, it fell off the chariot of Apollo, and disappear within the cloud. Apollo was unnoticed the missing of one little ray, so he didn't search for it. Being abandoned, the poor ray had to wander around the wide sky. Cloud and wind became its partners._

_ Time passed and its challenges trained the lonely ray to become thicker, tougher, and more independent. The stronger it was, the brighter it was. After ten years, little ray became the most glorious masterpiece that can be thought of by one and only Hephaestus. Unfortunately, its beauty was hidden behind the cloud, let nobody see._

_ One day, after time and time of floating in the air, the ray finally left thee sky. It unhook the embrace around its lover, the wind, and fell into a transparent little lake, where Hecuba, the queenof Troy, went for a bathe._

_ A year later, people of Troy celebrated the birthday of their honest and beautiful princess. Her name was Cassandra._

The night Cassandra is born, you have a vision. You dream of the ray you've lost, and yourself with it. The light and pureness of its enchanted you. You were stretching out, trying so hard to touch it, but it simply just slipped out of your fingers. It felt so real, you can see yourself yearn for it,to take in the feeling of its light on your skin, in your veins. But somehow, the goal in front of you seem so much like an illusion, too.

Then you stretched too much you slipped, and you fell.

You wake up, sweat is spray-like on your rugged back.

Mortals ususally don't understand, or don't remember the dreams. They calm themselves by denying and thinking everything they've seen in dreams are just in their imagination, but you know better. Being the god of the Oracles, your dreams never lie. They only tell the soon-to-be-truth, and occasionally they're frustrated, when you know what will happen, still, you can't change it.

You recall the previous vision, and your eyes quickly catch the laurel wreath hanging on the wall.

Daphne.

You rise, go to the window, and look out. Far to the west, the feast of Trojan kingdom is still happening. Fireworks bloom above the roves of the city. Your eyes see beyond of that. Among the congrats and the celebrations, your ray appears in the figure of a beautiful baby girl. She's sleeping peacefully in the cradle. Tiny pillows and blankets that circle around her carry the warm and addicting smell of babies with milk.

Cassandra.

You instantly feel attached to her.

An afflatus tell you that someday, that little fairy over there, shall be the one to heal the huge wound in your heart, which was caused by the ghost named Daphne ever since. She shall ease the laurel smell that haunts you many nights in your sleep. All you have to do, is wait.

Cassandra blossoms like a star. Glorious, wise, and profound. Fountain of brown hair holding the statuesque feature. Her cheeks are so rosy despite the alabaster complexion, even when without make-up. The a-little-too thick eyebrows, which is an interesting detail of her appearance, very honor the light in those spring-like eyes. She's pure,graceful and honest, just like a summer breeze.

At her fifteenth birthday party, you show up in your best: a beautiful young man with wavy brown hair and mysterious blue eyes, not to mention the gentle manners and that killer smile. You can see that lovable shade on her cheeks get even deeper when she catches you stare at her.

'May I have this dance, dear princess?' You bow and offer your hand. Your melodic voice is as effective as you want it to be.

She answers you by a smile and take your hand.

Just like that, you dance with her all night, gently hold her in your arms, circle her around the dance floor, memorize her lines, her signs, like glint in her eyes, the lively color on her face, the lark-like voice of hers, and so on.

Until there're only you and her in the garden, you start confessing your love to her. You describe the beating of your heart the day you lay your eyes on her, the way your eyes long for every step she takes. And you insist her to response your affection, which if she does, you vow to the Styx you will give her the most precious gift to honor your love.

She blushes, her eyes sparkle, and shyly nods.

You're like flying to cloud ninth. She feels the same way!

With pure delight, you rest your godly kisses on her forehead and her eyelids. The markes glow on her skin and fade right away.

And you tell her what they mean. She's given the Gift of Oracle.

And... and you reveal your true identity.

In fact, you haven't have to. Because now, she could recognize you herself, right at the moment the first vision hit her.

You're still staring a her, admiring her beauty, when all of a sudden, she collapses on her knees, breaks out in tears.

'Dear lord Apollo, the great son of Zeus The Mighty, rider of the Chariot of the Sun, the greatest acher of archers, the Master of Delphi, I beg you to have your gift back.'

'No, my dear Cassandra. How could I?'

'I'm greatly grateful of you, my lord, an immortal god, to ever be interested in a vulnerable mortal like myself. But as much as my respect for you, I can't accept your affection.'

Hot blood rush through your veins. Something is terribly wrong.

'Why?'

'I am just a mortal. Mortals are born, we grow, and we die. And you, my lord, you are a god. You gods are all like the wind, come instantly and go instantly. You'd be passionate as long as you still love me. But what will happen when my youth is gone, my beauty is rotten. You sure won't stay around, will you? I don't sell myself high, but I care about my future children. What would I say to them if one day they ask me where their father were? And I know about heroes and demigods, too. I know about how their lives turn. I can never risk that. So please, my god, have your pricless gift back. I'm appreciate, but I don't need it. I need a husband, who would love me and cherish me till the end of my life. He would protect me, comfort me. And so, he would love our children. He would hide them away from the shadows, he would educate them to be strong, to be wise, to be brave. He would always be there, by our side no matter what. And my lord, that's just something you can never do. So please, with all of my honesty, I beg you to have your gift back, and leave me.'

You're standing there, as hard as stone. Your pride, that ridiculous godly pride, it blinds you, deafens you, makes yourself go shallow and selfish. You don't even care about one word she's saying, you just feel tricked, and betrayed. And hurt. You, the Great Apollo, cannot be fooled. Who dare make a fool out of you, shall be punished. Hard.

'Pathetic woman. Don't you dare trick me with those tears. You've made me vow to the Styx, that I would give you my love, along with my gift. That's the biggest mistake I've ever made, and it's your plan all along, isn't it? You know I can't have it back, I'm so sorry about that. And now you're sitting there weeping, making yourself miserable, hoping that I can be moved, so you can keep both my gift and your virginity. But let me tell you, you liar, your prophecies shall do no good to you, as it shall do no good to anyone. They will be nothing but the same as your lies. No matter how logical they are, how right they are, how true they are, they will not be trusted. Nobody will lsten to you, nobody will believe you. Your words shall be mentioned as a joke at the feast, like a silly advice from a silly woman. Because that's what you are, a silly and a liar. You have my gift, and now you have my curse. Farewell, Cassandra. I hope to never see your face again.' You throw those cruel words at her before disappear in a golden halo.

Twelve years later...

The Trojan War has come to an end. Victory's to the hand of Greeks. The heroes sail back home, with gold and slaves, prepare (or unprepare) to welcome their fates.

_Agamemnon died in the hand of his wife, Clymnestra, and so does Cassandra. The evil queen hunts her down her feet, along with her two little children. _

You have another vision.

Cassandra, looking gaunt and exhausted, is running for her life. Her hands are pulling two toddlers. Two assasins are right behind them. How can one small woman against those giants? Soon, there's no where for her to turn.

A man's hand grab her delicate shoulder and pull it back violently, while the other grasp one toddler's hair, lift him off the ground.

'No!' she screams, and with all of her last strength, she pull away from the man that gripping her and run to the other one, her nails desperately claw at his arm.

Her best effort means nothing to him. The man slowly pulls out his dagger, and the shiny blade coldly slide through the toddler's throat.

Blood blur your vision, make you wake up. You gasp, rewind the dream in a second, and the first thing that come o your mind is: _What have I done?_

She was lying in a pool of blood when you arrive.

Beautiful eyelids are closed, tears don't dry out yet. Her plain white dress is now in red, a big sloppy hole is opened up on her chest. You rest her head in your arm, while your hand is trying to heal her wound with magic.

'Wake up, mortal, I demand it.' You speak, but regret it right away. 'Wait, no, sorry, that was rude of me. You're no ordinary mortal, right? You're my beautiful, beautiful Cassandra. You're my sun, my spring, you're my goddess. You're not a silly, not a liar. You're wise and honest. What I've said before, I take it all back. I am the fool. I am the fool for hurting you, and I'm truly sorry.'

The stab is healed under your magic.

But she's not.

'My goddess, why don't you speak? I'm dying to hear the sound of your voice, I'm longing to see the light of your eyes. Can you hear me? Open your eyes, move your lips. Look at me, speak to me. Are you cold? Are you hungry? Tell me, my goddess, your wish is my command. Please, do anything, hit me, slap me, curse me, I know my guilt is unforgivable, but don't torture me this way. I need you.' You caress her mahogany locks. 'I love you.'

It's too late.

Your soothing voice isn't enough to wake her up, your apologize isn't enough to bring back the beautiful clor that's now fading on her cheeks. She's gone. Her pure and innocent soul has left her body, joining the endless crowd of th Asphodel Fields.

For the first time, the God of Justice tries to deny the truth.

You hold her lifeless body and weep for the whole day.

Athena listens to your story quietly. She keeps quiet for a while after you finish it. Her expression is thoughtful.

'So what happened after that?' she asks.

'I creamated her with her two children, and I summon this,' you takes the ray of sunshine out. Its light and warmth feel unfamiliar on your skin. 'The only thing that's left of hers. I see you today to give it to you.'

'Why? After all, it's your ray of sunshine. If you love that girl so much, wouldn't you want to have it to yourself?'

You shake your head.

'It's not mine anymore. I don't know how, but it's not. It's hers. And because I love her so much, I want to make it up to her. A rebirth seems like what she need.'

'But why me?'

'You're the only goddess that is appropriate. You can give her a life, give her an identity, that deserve her. Nobody, I said nobody can judge her, or underestimate her, or doubt her, or make fun of her. Make her a wise, confident, independent, powerful girl, a worthy child of Athena. Now you tell me, isn't it enough to create a wonderful girl?

'It's perfect.' She answers simply.

'Good.'

Athena does you no doubt.

'What do you think?' she smiles triumphantly, her eyes caress the small little creature that is glowing within her arms.

'Magnificent, sister.' You answer.

'Isn't she? What a special girl. I will call her...' there's a moment of hesitation. She turns to you. 'Apollo? I want you to name her.'

'Pardon?'

'I want you to name her.' she repeats. 'After all, weren't you the one who gave me the material to create her? Wasn't she born with your blessings? Give her a name, Apollo. She deserves it. I won't take away that right. Besides, you're the god of art and literature. You sure can think of a nice name.'

You look at the baby. It feels like the first time all over again, when you first saw Cassandra.

A special girl must have special things. At least, from the name.

'Annabeth. Her name is Annabeth.'

Annabeth grows up and shines brightly.

You watch her every single day, from a very distance. You embrace her in your halo, You lighten the golden cloud called her hair, and you kiss her, tenderly but passionately, the kisses of the sun. Your kisses color her skin into the light and beautifully sweet tone of honey.

Her face is shone like goddess. Her neck is tall and proud. Her walk, with those slim and long legs, is strong and confident. And there's something magical in her big gray eyes, like a very weird storm, a storm that can hold up the light of a thousand stars. Fierce. Brave. Smart. She's magnificent. She's more than anything you've ever wish her to be.

Funny thing is, she has nothing like Cassandra. They're both wonderful in two very different, yet special ways. Perhaps, the only thing they have in common is beloved by you. And those cheeks, too. The rosy shade. Like the dawn.

You notice some of your sons who have eyes for her, and you shrug. Not so surprise. Like father, like son. Who can ignore a girl like that. But how shame, she's yours. She's your second chance to restart everything, to become a better man. She's what you have to...

'Stay away from her.' Athena's voice is from behind you.

'What?'

'You see it, don't you? The fates of your women. Please, don't make my daughter be one of them. Annabeth was born to be a hero. Don't stand in her way. Your interest would give her nothing but trouble.'

You stun. Your mouth's hard as if someone just freeze it.

'Don't you understand? Being with you is a curse. Every woman, every girl who had been stuck with you ended up in miserable. I can't let my daughter be one of those. She's strong, she's smart, she has all of the abilities that needed to build her own path. Please, Apollo, don't ruin it.'

'I...' you whisper. 'I love her.'

'Then leave her alone, if you ever care for her that much.'

You keep your promise, and that's the beginning of your endless days: watching something that you love and want so badly, but you can't have, until it belongs to someone else.'

You start to write haiku, right after she met Percy Jackson. Five, seven, five. Who does that? You. Even when your rhyms sound amazingly stupid, you still do. No need to tell what you see in her and that boy' future. You'd rather let the other gods see you as a creepy ego dreamy jerk, more than see you as a broken-hearted one. The great Apollo never collapse for a woman. Never again.

_Shame on you, pride._

You still silently watch her from above, even when the visions about them are slowly killing you in side. Why can't you die? Oh right, you're a god.

Continueing your endless days: watching somthing you love and want so badly, in desperation and loneliness, until it's gone for good.

Their hands clasp together when they're thrown into the canoe lake, when they fall into the defth of Tartarus, when they're in the church, happily saying their vows. Their hands still clasp together, when they're peacefully asleep at the last night of their lives.

A funeral is suppose to be shadowy and agony, but you refuse to do so. Every moment, every occasion, from the beginning to the end, even when she's gone, her appearance must be shown in glorious. That explains why the day they die, there's a sunny day in the winter.

What about the ray? It leaves Annabeth's body after she's gone, and flies back to Athena's hand.

'Do you want me to have another child?' she asks you.

For a reply, you smile. A smile that no one can understand.

But maybe she does.


	7. Author's note 2

**Hi, this is Violet Fier. This won't be another chapter. In fact, I wouldn't update any chapter for about 1 or 2 months. Instead, I want to ask you all a question:**

**Why do beautiful fictional male characters that we adore so much usually suffer horrible things? For some examples:**

**- Peeta has been tortured and brainwashed so horribly, that the consequence of the memories harmed him for life.**

**- Finnick Freakin' Odair, died. When it suppose to be his happiest time.**

**- Snape? Died.**

**- Cinna? Died.**

**- Percy Jackson? Don't even let me start about him. We all now where he is now (sob).**

**I get it, OK? I get it that authors need to sell books, I get it that a story has to have twist and turn and tragedies and 'life isn't always perfect', but... I know that the pain shall ease, but it's just... not fair. I need another reason.**

**Please comment if you agree with me.**

**Sincerely**

**Violet Fier**

**P/s: Be free to tell me your ideas for the next chapter. Seriously, I'm blanking. I planned to do Leo's, but things didn't happen the way I want it to. I need a scenario. A situation. Please help. **


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